


Petunias, Maybe

by Emono



Series: Safe and Sound [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Could be anything, General Night Vale-y-ness, Horror, M/M, but only in the usual way, off-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos and Cecil see each other for he first time after that initial town meeting. Cecil knows this beautiful scientist means no real harm and he's more than happy to indulge him if it means spending a few more minutes in his presence. But he quickly learns how potent Carlos can be and can't quite "play normal" with him so close. As for the scientist, he gets a glimpse of what the Voice of Night Vale really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Petunias, Maybe

**This will be part of a larger one-shot series. All will be about as short, about. Maybe one for each podcast? I'm not sure yet. Right now it's just for fun. I want to get a glimpse of the boys developing together and I have a few ideas in mind.**

**I know everyone has their own headcanon for Cecil and I respect that completely. I have decided to have reasons for my Cecil being pale and blonde in a desert town. If you don't like that, imagine something different, I'm totally not going to stop you. I just want everyone to have fun and enjoy themselves.**

**BUT if you'd like to see my headcanon for[Cecil](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/58802656795/a-friendly-desert-community-where-the-sun-is) and [Carlos](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/58801965986/that-new-scientist-we-now-know-is-named-carlos), check them out on [my Tumblr](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/). I have a photoset for each so you can get a feel. I've been waiting to fancast Andrew-Lee Potts for a while and I can find a lot of pictures of him doing what I need Carlos to do so it kind of works out. Of course my choice for Cecil - a hastily chosen Robert Hoffman - turned out to have ZERO pictures of what I needed Cecil to do. So bare with me when it comes to the photosets. I love making them for each chapter, I think they're cute. I made these [other](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/58847611922/im-afraid-dear-listeners-that-ill-be-away-for) photosets and I'm thinking of using [some of the ideas](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/58801485767/the-city-council-announces-the-opening-of-a-new) I've jotted down [for fics](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/58942720847/emono-omae-now-for-more-personal-news-today). I will probably eventually make a fanmix as well, but that's down the line and school's starting.**

**Enough of that shameless plugging and boring stuff - enjoy!**

* * *

 

He was perfect.

 

Cecil hugged his arms over his chest, pressing tight to the wall so the shadows kept him hidden from the rest of the assembly (which was a good chunk of Night Vale). Those same shadows were known for swallowing up innocent citizens and spitting them back out in out in alternative timelines, but he'd take his chances. No one needed to see the Voice of Night Vale flushed and ogling the current speaker like a smitten school girl.

 

The man commanding the attention of the room had introduced himself as one of the leading scientists that had recently come to their little desert town. His voice was strong and sure, like molasses dripping from a spoon onto a warm tongue. He was introducing the team and their mission. They had arrived to study and record the so-called “strange occurrences” going on in Night Vale. Apparently they had gained the City Council's approval and the proper permits to observe the town as freely as they pleased, so long as they followed the same rules as any other citizen.

 

Cecil wasn't sure how they managed to pull it off, the City Council hadn't been seen in a great many years. In fact, he couldn't recall the last time a new member was elected. Those who hadn't been silenced by the Sheriff's Secret Police or thrown into the Abandoned Mine Shaft outside town had reported that the members had...Cecil swallowed and tightened his grip on his arms, hyperaware for another reason all together.

 

The few eye witnesses that had managed to speak and live had reported that the City Council had fused together in a faux-human silhouette.

 

The team was bound to discover things like that. The little bits about Night Vale that made it... _one of a kind_. The poor scientists seemed to be clueless about what they were stepping in. When they found out it would either lead to their untimely death or their fastest recorded getaway.

 

Cecil started to laugh but swallowed it down. He made a little promise to himself right there in the meeting room that he'd do whatever it took to keep the beautiful one safe. The others were on their own.

 

But now was not the time to worry about the unimportant gaggle of white coats gathered on stage and their surely mysteriously gruesome fate. His eyes were only for the one, their mouthpiece at the moment, their most confident.

 

His name was Carlos and he was _perfect._

 

*******

 

Carlos put on a professional smile and shook hands with each citizen that came up to them. Some had questions, other condolences for something he wasn't sure about, but most just wanted to comment on how cool his coat was or how happy they were to see fresh faces in Night Vale.

 

One very concerned woman had clasped his hand in both of hers before tearfully declaring, “I thought there was no one else left! I thought they were the only ones!”

 

This kept up for several minutes, the meeting chambers slowly emptying out. The place was full of tapestries and marble seats, _chambers_ was truly the only word he could think of for it. Yet he place was well-wired. He'd never seen a stranger mix of modern and monarchy.

 

His comrades were eager to get out of there. After much fussing and fidgeting he agreed to pack up their charts and papers. They left on quick feet before he could finish telling them just that. The cowards.

 

Carlos had only just piled p the folders when he felt someone's gaze upon him. It was a different kind of watching than that he'd experienced so far in Night Vale. Less menacing than the hidden stare of the Sheriff's Secret Police, less ominous than the all-knowing eyeless gaze of the hooded figures (though he still wasn't sure if they even had eyes). It was focused but it didn't make him uncomfortable, at least not in the normal sense. He turned to find the source, expecting a towering figure or maybe an unidentifiable haze or whatever else was deemed normal in this strange place.

 

It was a man. He was slim and dressed very nicely in comparison to most of the citizens, paler as well. He looked like he'd never been outside in this heat and sun, as if he'd been shut away all his life. A classy yellow and black plaid shirt was fitted close to his chest, a simple dark vest accentuating the long line of his torso. His hair was an ash blonde and cut short (again, very different from the norm of the town). Glasses covered his dark eyes, the frame shining like it was carved from ebony stone and slotted with lenses. In this town, they could've very well have been. He was sleek and rather handsome, objectively. Professional except for the barest glimpse of tattoos visible just below the hem of his meticulously folded sleeves, the ink so dark it had a violet sheen in it.

 

The man was standing at the base of the stairs off the stage, politely quiet and patiently allowing people to file past him. The blonde seemed to be well-known, he was giving little nods to every other person walking by. Soft greetings were exchanged with those who Carlos had been told were high-standing in the community.

 

Once the stage was clear of everyone but him, Carlos decided the man must want something from him personally. He gestured for the blonde to come up as he continued to pack, mentally categorizing him as another concerned citizen who needed to be assured they meant no harm. But when he turned back to start his rehearsed lines, he found the man keeping a respectful distance and positively beaming at him. The blonde's hands were tucked behind his back and his chin as sort of tucked to his chest.

 

It was a shy posture. This was the first person he'd seen who he could deem 'sheepish'.

 

“Hello,” Carlos held out his hand, “Mr...?”

 

“C-Cecil,” the man admitted, shoulders tensing, “Cecil Baldwin. I'm the, the uh, the radio station.”

 

The blonde winced at the way he fumbled, “I mean, not the whole radio station. I talk on it – I read out – ”

 

“Yes?” Carlos prompted gently, retracting his hand.

 

Cecil took a deep breath, picking his head up, “I'm the radio host. They call me the Voice of Night Vale.”

 

The man's voice was steadier now, the confidence he probably showed on the radio shining through.

 

“It's nice to meet you, Mr. Baldwin,” Carlos stated, flipping open his suitcase and tucking his folders away, “I'd be glad to answer any questions you may have.”

 

“No questions,” Cecil assured him brightly, “I just wanted to introduce myself.”

 

He picked up the suitcase, “We're introduced, then. Good day, Mr. Baldwin.”

 

Carlos started toward him, the other seeming to panic and back down the stairs in an attempt to get out of his way. It was kind of cute in a flustered sort of way and it gave the scientist pause. They stood together on the steps, one trying not to stare so openly while the other made an attempt to keep the moment from being awkward.

 

“You host the local radio station?” Carlos asked unnecessarily, “I'll have to listen in next time. I'm sure it's very informative.”

 

“You can call me Cecil if you'd like, all my friends do. 'Mr. Baldwin' is much too formal.”

 

The darker man nodded, “Carlos, then, if we're to be friends.”

 

Cecil flushed and it was the most wondrous thing the scientist had ever seen. The usual rosy hue wasn't there, instead it was more of a lavender dusting that spread across his cheeks and into his hairline. Carlos carelessly dropped his suitcase, rushing forward and plucking a thin flashlight from the pocket of his lab coat. He flicked it on, firmly grabbing the radio host's chin to hold him in place as he more closely examined his oddly colored cheeks.

 

“Fascinating,” he muttered under his breath, “What color is your blood, Mr. Baldwin?”

 

“Red,” Cecil was on the verge of turning violet, “At least, last time I checked.”

 

“Strange,” Carlos ran his thumb over the skin, finding it warmer than he'd expected (why didn't he ever bring his thermometer when he needed it?), “You seem to be flushed with a purple tint. Is this normal?”

 

“I believe so,” there was a fine tremble in the blonde's hands but it went unseen, “Is something wrong...Carlos?”

 

“Do you feel different? Are you nauseas? Have you felt dizzy today? Did you eat anything drastically different from your usual diet?” Carlos shot out in rapid fire. He realized how rude he was coming off, if only from the way the radio host's pleased demeanor faded into something visibly uncomfortable. He reigned in his curiosity and lowered the tip of his flashlight, trying to smile in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

 

“Cecil,” he inquired much more calmly, “Have you been feeling well?”

 

“Better than ever,” Cecil promised, his smile coming back full-force.

 

“May I check your pupils?”

 

The strange blush was coming back, this time dancing across his nose, “If you'd like.”

 

“I would appreciate it,” Carlos didn't notice the way he fully cupped Cecil's jaw to tilt his head up but the other did, shivering as some of his control slipped, “Let me just...”

 

The light caught off the radio host's irises and reflected back an startlingly unnatural color. He quickly shined the light in them again but a second look showed them to be a simple blue. Carlos glanced up at lights, they must've had altered filaments or off amount of argon in the bulbs. He could've sworn for just a moment they were the same color as the dark petunias his mother had kept in their windowsill, a shock of purple to compliment all the ivory tile. He'd never forget that color and it had been in Cecil's eyes, he was sure of it.

 

He dropped his hand, the blonde sighed softly.

 

“Are your eyes normally blue?” Carlos questioned, putting away his flashlight.

 

“Normally, yes,” Cecil answered vaguely, pushing up his glasses, “Am I in good health?”

 

“It seems so,” he made a mental note to look more carefully at the other residents for similar discoloration, “The light in here must be off. I thought...well, I don't know what I thought. I should be going.”

 

Cecil knelt down to pick up the scientist's suitcase, rising up and gingerly handing it over. He held it in his open palms and offered it up like it was something delicate. Carlos grabbed the handle and tucked it beneath his arm, giving the host a last nod before easing past him down the rest of the stairs.

 

“Carlos?”

 

He paused, half-turning to show he was paying attention.

 

“Did you mean it?” pale digits twisted behind him, “About listening to my show.”

 

“I did.”

 

The simple answer seemed to make the other glow.

 

Carlos was halfway to his car before he realized that the man might have _actually_ been glowing.

 

*******

 

Cecil sat down on the stage and stayed there long after the lights had gone out and the usual brown lizard infestation had settled in. The place belonged to them after meetings until the sun came up, then they went out to find flat boulders to lay on and soak up every ray. They were small and skittered across his folded legs, little feet tickling his palms as he let them run over his open hands.

 

He'd nearly lost his cool in front of the dark haired demi-god. He'd practically dug bruises into his hands to keep them behind his back and away from Carlos's silky locks. They'd been swept back but he knew they could be truly glorious.

 

Cecil cursed himself when he remembered his eyes had flickered. It was Carlos's fault, really, the man had all but been cradling his face. Those tan digits had been so cool against his skin, strong in the way they curled around his jaw and tilted it back. He'd gotten a lungful of the man's scent and he found a tantalizing mix of almond and male musk, brought out by the sun baking him within his lab coat. It was intoxicating and had cracked his carefully carved surface, but if Carlos had noticed he hadn't said anything other than the obvious changed coloring. Next time he'd be better. He'd keep himself smoothed out and covered up, bland.

 

He could do normal for Carlos. For him, he could do anything.

 

* * *

 

**Review if you liked it, I hope you did :)**

**See you at the next broadcast~**

 

 

 

 

 

 


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